I feel like whatever happens in this world, the skills I learn to cultivate nourishing food, to encourage resilient soil ecosystems, to steward healthy livestock – will aid me, will contribute to society. A bit of stability in a shaky time.

Just a wee snippet to find solace in today. A beautiful little video of saving seeds, and an article musing about why farmers keep farming – despite many barriers. It also points to one of my favourite models of farming, Community Supported Agriculture.

Is your vote motivated by the desire to ‘regain control’ of Britain, or by the fear of immigrants overwhelming the UK? Do you resent the incomers who take jobs from British people, get benefits, abuse our welfare system with glee?

When I have conversations about these topics with my friends and colleagues – about the issues they have with immigrants coming to the UK – I always bring up that I too am an immigrant, that tighter controls affect me directly. They say:

“You’re not an immigrant, you’re Canadian”

“You’re not an immigrant, you’re white”

“We have no problem with you, because you work!”

“It’s an open-door policy, surely it must be easy to get in!?”

I explain that throughout my six years in Britain, I’ve never been entitled to benefits here.

I explain that I’ve been rejected for a visa once before, had to sit before an immigration judge to prove my right to stay, representing myself against a Home Office lawyer.

I explain that jobs weren’t blindly given to me and taken from British folk – I interviewed, was assessed, and proved the best candidate.

I explain that myself and many incomers want to live here and make our communities better – volunteering, starting businesses, actively engaging.

I explain that the visa process is anything but an ‘open-door’ – it’s difficult, ever-changing, and comes with no guarantees. Rules change and you need to leave. Last summer this happened to me – when I had to quit my job, leave my house, leave my partner, and go back to Canada to apply for another visa. I’m back now, but it’s been the better part of a year, and the visa process isn’t finished yet.

If you’re happy with myself staying here in Britain, because you know me and like me, I’m familiar to you and relate-able to you – remember that I too am an immigrant. If any of what I’ve said above surprises you, would it be fair to say that your perspective on immigration might be limited to what the media tells you, v.s. actual immigrant experiences from those you’ve spoken to?

The EU migrants you’re trying to block from coming to the UK aren’t a faceless mass – they are people with stories, and lives, and contributions, and talents. They bring different skills, perspectives, cultures – they make us richer in their diversity, not weaker. Like me, they have reasons why they want to be in Britain, and more often then not, it’s not borne out of a desire to threaten British values, sponge off the system, or cause trouble.

A vote for Leave today is a vote against me – literally and figuratively. Not only is my visa directly linked to membership in the EU, but I am a good example of an immigrant you’re okay with staying here, because you’ve gotten to know me. It’s easy to judge and be afraid of that which you don’t know – please give others a chance. I promise they are better than what the Daily Mail says.

In my working week, I am a support to communities and businesses across central Scotland – with the goal of creating more a diverse, thriving, and resilient rural landscape. This is not a baker.

In my volunteering life, I am an advocate for a better food system – with the goal of communicating the alternatives, and supporting innovative practice within food systems. This is not a baker.

In my domestic domain, I am a cyclist, a gardener, an aspiring shepherdess – with the goal of riding in beautiful places, cultivating happiness, and sharing space with wooly creatures. This is not a baker.

But, dear Scotland, I riddle you this – where are all of your CSAs? Those wonderful and innovative pairings of nourishment and community, a structure that allows for transparency and participation in our food system. They seem to be quite rare up here.

Sharing the risks, responsibilities, rewards of the farm

CSA, for the unenlightened, stands for Community Supported Agriculture – a method of organisation for growing food that shares the risks, responsibilities and rewards of farming between producer and consumer.

There are several variations on what can be considered a CSA – many operate on a CSA ‘share’ system. This is when consumers buy a share in a seasons’ farm harvest, paying a lump sum up front at the start of the season. In return, they receive an equal share in each weeks’ harvest, whether that harvest is plentiful or more limited. This spreads the inherent, and numerous, risks of farming over many people, so the farmer isn’t solely saddled with risks of crop failure, weird weather, or low yields.

Saturday night was the very first “Soup” held in here in Stirling, Scotland – an evening of community empowerment, connection, and (you guessed it) soup!

What is “Soup”?

Soup is a simple and innovative method for community crowd-funding. The idea: people gather at a venue, everyone puts £5 in the pot, and listen to a few different folks pitch their ideas for a community project. Everyone has soup together, and then each person gets one vote to decide which pitch they liked best. Whichever pitch gets the most votes takes home the pot of cash to use for their project.

It’s an idea that originated from Detroit, USA – a simple way to get community projects off the ground – and has had all sorts of success. Now the idea has hopped the pond and is happening all over the UK, with an Edinburgh Soup happening here in Scotland. Stirling’s first Soup didn’t disappoint either, a lively evening of discussion, food, and community.

The inaugural Stirling Soup

When I arrived just before 7pm at the Albert Halls, the queue was out the door. Over 125 people registered their interest to attend, and when the day came, it was standing room only. Good effort, Stirling! I rushed back to the kitchen area, where I found Théo (aka mr.Riverside Bakery) furiously slicing up bread – we’d donated some sourdough loaves to go with the soup. I begged another bread knife off the kind bar staff and got to work slicing the crusty loaves too. Many slices later, we had a mountain of bread to offer the growing crowd.

It would be really helpful to gain a broader understanding of your background – how/why you arrived in Stirling from Canada, via England? Are there specific events/factors you feel have influenced your passion for food politics?

I ended up in the UK all because of a lovely Yorkshireman – we met on the west coast of Canada in 2009, fell in love, and his Canadian immigration visa ran out, so I came back to the UK with him. We lived in the Lake District in Cumbria, only meaning to stay in the UK for maybe a year, tops. For all sorts of reasons we ended up staying in Britain much longer. The Yorkshireman and I aren’t together any more, but I’m still in the UK, now living up in Scotland.

The reason I came to Stirling was very much linked to food politics and opportunities in that realm. I loved living in the Lake District – a great community of folks, fabulous access to wee mountains, and it’s really beautiful countryside. But, I was working in a cafe/pub the entire time I lived there and was desperate to contribute to a different food and farming system in a meaningful way. I felt limited in what I could achieve in the Lakes in this sense, as there isn’t a thriving alternative agriculture ‘scene’ there as of yet, and didn’t have the skills or confidence to forge new paths.

I applied for a job at Stirling University – the FEAST project (Food Education at Stirling uni), which was my dream job at the time. I was supporting the creation of a student-led permaculture garden, an organic/ethical food co-operative, and a series of sustainable food education sessions. To my delight and surprise, I got the job, and have been in Stirling ever since.

In terms of events or factors that influenced my passion for food politics….

It’s Saturday morning and 13 people are stood round a table with their hands deep in dough. We’re here to make and eat bread – crusty wholesome loaves of sourdough delights. But we’re also here to discuss ideas around accessibility – how do we make good bread and good food accessible to individuals, to communities, and on a systemic level? We’ve all gathered at the Hillview Community Centre, home of Riverside Bakery CIC, in Cultenhove, Stirling to begin the discussion.

Mark it down in the diaries, folks – Scotland’s very first Farm Hack – Oct 1st & 2nd, Tombreck Farm in Perthshire. A gathering of people, ideas and skills – all aiming to make the technology and tools of agro-ecological farming a bit more accessible, collaborative, and open-source. A description nicked from the Farm Hack website describes Farm Hack as a “farmer-driven community to develop, document, and build tools for resilient agriculture – and to build community around that goal.”